The Demoness Has Purple Eyes
by Mystic Muses
Summary: Upon stealing a spell amulet from the museum, Bakura attempts to get his own body for good. But when the spell backfires, Ryou and Bakura are suddenly stuck boarding with a 3000 year old sorceress...and they can't stand each other.
1. The Tomb Robber, the Tomb and the Amulet

**Disclaimer:  
**The Dark Mystic Muse deadpans, "I obviously do own neither Yugioh, nor any of its characters. If I did, several characters in the story would meet tragic ends and Malik and Bakura would rule the world. However, I _do _own _this _story, and Nefert/Nefer-Hotep, since I created them."

**Note:  
**Ancient Egyptian dictionary at the bottom of the page; tell me if you want it translated as you go for the next time, or if you want the dictionary to be at the top, etcetera. Any reviews would be appreciated!

**The Demoness  
****Has Purple Eyes**

_The Tomb, the Tomb Robber, and the Amulet_

Buried within the heart of the desert's ancient tomb, a mausoleum was hidden beneath the rivers of sand, long forgotten by history and its guardians. A trickle of glistening crimson beads slowly teemed down the sealed doors; chunky rocks nestled against the sunken walls. Inside the sandstone palace, endless rooms had been chiseled. If the sun could rest its golden eye upon the monument, a glittering shower would have shimmered against the jewel-sheathed walls and coated the primeval remains of fruit offerings in light.

Cinnamon-colored dust sprinkled itself upon the lashes of silent statues, tousling peacock feathers and caking linen sheets. In the far end of the halls the rooms led to a single courtyard. The chambers were breathless, yet two enchanted flames burned from ceramic cups soaring from beside an open casket leaning against untouched painted walls.

An astonishingly beautiful figure of a woman was dappled in a cloak of shadows, her slender form resting against the draping darkness. The aroma of Egyptian myrrh laced through the air, and in a blink of an eye, the embers vanished.

**-------------**

"You don't have to do this, Bakura," Ryou's soft voice pleaded for a last, final time. His innocent chocolate eyes blinked gloomily at the dusty Egyptian scroll clasped within his delicate hands, inky hieroglyphs brushed against the papyrus paper. "How will you live without me?"

"What are you," the tomb robber glared through his host's eyes, "a female? Are you getting emotional on me again? I've ransacked your little mind already – I know how to use your pathetic modern devices." He felt the snowy-haired British boy squirm uncomfortably, biting his lip as he always did when he was holding back a protest.

Bakura noticed, and he drawled lazily, "Yes, I _did _look through your mind again. Get over it."

"You said you wouldn't!" the boy cried indignantly.

"Think about it this way: after this, it will be the last time I ever do."

"I'd hate to interrupt," Malik's annoyed voice called before them, "but I have you know that my sister will _not _sing for joywhen she finds out her newest addition to the Egyptian exhibit has gone missing." His violet eyes glanced at the dusty scroll. "And be careful with that!"

The ancient thief rolled his dark eyes. "Just give me the amulet, Malik," he held out a pale hand expectantly. "You replaced it with a replica, didn't you?"

The blonde Egyptian stared at him as if he was eyeballing an asylum escapee. "My sister," he began slowly, as if talking to a two-year old, "is one of the most renowned museum curators in the world. She is _not _going to miss the fact that her priceless turquoise amulet has been replaced with a shoddy, misshapen lump of clay!"

Bakura shrugged in response.

"You are infuriating _and _blind."

"And you are starting to sound like Ryou," the tomb robber retorted, ignoring Ryou's insulted gripe at the comment. He rubbed his chilled shoulders, his eyes sweeping across the emerald park, lit with silvery moonlight. The full moon's quivering beams poured through the ivy-green foliage wreathing the swaying trees; a pool of light illuminated the array of strange powders arranged in bags on the whispering grass blades.

"Bakura…" Ryou's angelic whisper called his name once again, trailing off into the pillaging wind. It completely exasperated the spirit with how timid and innocent it sounded, full of misery.

Bakura felt a spike of annoyance prickle him; he snapped, "For the last time, host, I can't have your frail little body if I'm going to work! You are just a hindrance." He felt Ryou's sadness, but he pretended to ignore it. He didn't understand why the boy was complaining, or why he had said he would miss him. It wasn't as if he had been particularly _nice. _Nor did he understand the tiny sliver of something similar to regret panging within him, a feeling he was determined to hide from his light.

Malik dropped the amulet's twining shape into Bakura's open hand, and the tomb robber hung it around his neck. "Now, we have to read this together," he informed Malik and Ryou. He narrowed his hikari's eyes. "And you better read it properly," he threatened unnecessarily out of habit, and Ryou nodded mournfully. The two Egyptians and one reluctant British boy mumbled the chant, Bakura having forced his host to memorize the writing before hand.

Suddenly Ryou stumbled. "_Akh em khem – et!_" The mispronunciation shot like a spear into the two Egyptian's ears, and the three halted.

"You stopped!"

"It's a tongue twister! I couldn't help it!" At the simmering anger burning through their mental link, Ryou promised, "I won't do it again, not next time, Bakura! I promise." His yami growled. "It was only a practice round," the light squeaked.

"What will happen, by the way, if this happens during the actual spell?" Bakura questioned like vinegar.

Malik answered dryly, "I'm not sure, but at worst the spell will have the opposite effect. Instead of 'separating the souls'," he quoted, glancing down at the script, "it will probably add another soul to your…party."

"A random soul?" Ryou piped, fingering the Millennium Ring nervously, knowing what happened the last time he met the met a spirit who had to inhabit his body.

"I don't know; possibly."

Bakura waved it off absently. "If that happens, we'll just repeat the spell until we get it right."

The bronze Egyptian glared, realizing that the thief hadn't been paying _any _attention at all to the long and boring speech he had made over half an hour ago. "This," he jabbed a finger at the amulet, "is a one time spell! All amulet spells are! If we mess this one up, you'll be boarding with another spirit –permanently!"

"Yes, yes, let's just get on with it," Bakura rolled russet eyes. His fingers wrapped around the amulet, a gentle pulse beating through his fingertips. Magic trilled through the air; the faint scent of myrrh pirouetted through the night sky. "_Netjer kwk, ii tjew…_"

The chant continued, it's sharp, flinty words piercing the heavens like crystal shards. Gleaming hieroglyphs ringed the air, circling the thief's arms, climbing his ankles. The words resonated; pearly droplets of magic stippled his skin.

The power of the ancient language began to take affect, when all of a sudden, someone yelped, and the spell splintered into a thousand pieces.

"_No!_" Bakura howled - the spell turned violent. The haunting runes scorched a fierce crimson, scarring the air with a brutal screech. A shudder rippled through the amulet and the frail twisting figure crumbled into grains of sand, falling into the shrieking zephyrs. "_Rewi i!" _The tomb robber frantically bellowed the final words, but it was too late.

A blinding orb of light sparked before him and he was blown backward, slamming violently into the arms of an unforgiving tree.

The tomb robber and the tomb keeper stared up into the suddenly deathly silent night, breathing heavily, blood-red flames hissing against the ground like agonized snakes.

"Oh gods…" Malik groaned, prying himself from the floor and stumbling to his feet. A tanned hand groped for the charred and tattered remains of the papyrus scroll, its words now mutilated by the failed spell. "_Iwt sa!" _Swearing venomously, he slammed the patch of writing to the ground, trying desperately to stomp out the flames lapping at the corners.

The spell's corpse withered and died. Bakura scrambled to his feet and lunged at the ground up flicks of paper, horrified. "_No! _How could this happen? _Who _messed this up?" His dark eyes leapt up to Malik's violet ones, accusing.

The Egyptian scowled; silver moonlight spilled onto the Millennium Rod holder's halo of golden hair. "It wasn't me! It was _you! _I heard you mess it up!"

"That's impossible!"

"Ha, and Ra be damned and Set is an angel! It _was _you Bakura, I heard it loud and clear. Blame your own incompetence-"

"Why you-!"

"Stop!" Ryou wailed, sitting both he and Bakura gracelessly on the ground. "There's something wrong…"

Bakura snapped, "By Ra there's something wrong! The spell failed!" Malik rolled his eyes to make a retort but Ryou cut in.

"No, it's not-"

"Silence, hikari!" He resumed insulting his accomplice. "Malik you better admit that it was you who messed this spell up or-"

"Or what?" Malik taunted, grinning nastily. "Hit me with your former scroll?" He laughed, pinching the pathetic and desecrated flakes of paper, and Bakura's eyes narrowed. "Poor thief!" Every syllable was dripping with sarcasm. "_Remi ib i en tjew_"

"It is you," he growled, "who will have to explain this to Ishezu." Malik paled visibly. Smirking at his, he added smugly, "You said yourself the ceramic fake wouldn't last. How will you explain the missing artifact?"

"Unlike you, thief," Malik sniped cruelly, "I don't need to worry about that. I have everything planned flawlessly." Of course, everyone was very aware of the fact that this was possibly the worst and most far-fetched lie the Rod bearer had ever told to anyone in his entire span of existence.

The poor little British boy that had the misfortune of sharing a body with a 3000 year old tomb robber sighed in his soul room, rummaging through the trinkets scattered across his sanctuary.

The room was quiet and sweet; hidden treasures were tucked in its corners and dangled temptingly from tree branches. But shadowing everything in the soul room was a gloomy cloud, crying sadness and reminding him of his own gaping wounds. As he hugged a pillow and curled up on the feathered bed, he thought he heard footsteps from outside.

Ryou sat up and frowned, watching his closed door. Was Bakura wandering in the corridor? He usually never did. _Perhaps the argument's over, _he thought glumly, eager to trudge up to his apartment and sleep. He had school tomorrow.

Sighing, the pale boy stepped up to the door and tugged open the handle, the fluffy pillow still tucked under an arm. "Bakura?" He whispered quietly, hoping the restless spirit wouldn't be in a wretched mood. No one answered.

Hesitantly, he took a step out, the ghostly white mist marauding the cracked floors of the corridor coiling around his bare ankles. Ryou shivered but plunged forward, his wide eyes darting around the darkness. "Bakura?" He hated how his voice had suddenly faded and deserted him. Something was different - wrong. As the icy floor nipped at his toes, Ryou's chocolate eyes searched for the something that was so out of place.

He peered down the snaking hall, searching for the thief or one of his magical monsters, which he used to scare his hikari when he was in a wretched mood. An oddity snagged his eyes, and he gasped.

"_Bakura!" _

He tore into the door of the thief's soul room with his fists, banging loudly, not caring who or what heard any more.

"-so why don't you go back and just…" in the middle of giving Malik a clearly rude suggestion, the tomb robber trailed off, Ryou's utterly petrified, shrill shout immediately forcing him back into his soul room. Glaring and cursing the day, the spirit ripped the door open lividly and demanded, "What!' of his terrified hikari. Ryou only pointed.

At the end of the hall between their rooms was another door. "Oh _netjeru…_" Bakura groaned. Another spirit had just moved in.

**Dictionary:**

"_Netjer kwk, ii tjew …" _– "Dark god, come…"  
_Rewi i _– I leave  
_Iwt sa _– S.O.B  
_Remi ib i en tjew__ – _My heart weeps for you  
_Netjeru _– Gods

**Note: **_Bad _grammar!


	2. Sorceress

**Disclaimer:  
**Loping over fallen chairs and wailing pots, the Dark Mystic Muse shouts out while chasing the Good Mystic Muse, "I don't own anything about Yugioh except this story and its characters!" The Good Mystic Muse shrieks, and the Dark Muse cackles evilly as she hollers threats after her accomplice. 'That will teach you from stealing _my _pen!"

**Note:  
**Ancient Egyptian dictionary at the bottom of the page; tell me if you want it translated as you go for the next time, or if you want the dictionary to be at the top, etcetera.

**The Demoness  
****Has Purple Eyes**

_Sorceress_

Pouring rivulets of sweat seeped across Ryou's panting body like snakes. Groaning, the sleep-starved boy wrenched himself out of the strangling cobwebs of bed sheets, his head pounding. _Another nightmare, _his thoughts were muddled. The same ancient village hidden at the bottom of the desert haunted his dreams. He shook his head, blinking at the dew drops clustered like tears upon the window. _Bakura's dreams, _he thought tiredly. He wanted to ask, but the spirit refused to speak of it.

_Open up you _sebi! The voice clattered through Ryou's head, and a tortured moan escaped Ryou's lips. _You can't stay in there forever! _Trying to ignore his yami, who was, as usual, already up, he patted the alarm clock until it stopped its persistent whining and stumbled blindly off into the shower, praying that Bakura would take mercy on his aching head and be quiet. _Peri tjew!_

"The door won't open, Bakura…" Ryou mumbled, stifling a yelp when the shower water rained onto his skin. "He'll come out when he's ready…"

_Silence host, _the thief ordered, spearing the bolted soul room with a vicious glare. _Take your shower without the comments. _

Ryou sighed, letting the water run down his body and wash off the sweat. _What do you think it is? _He couldn't help but ask.

He could feel Bakura giving him a look that suggested he was talking to a two year old. The spirit snorted. "Look, oh ignorant one: an animal, monster, or whatever your little mind is thinking of could not have entered your body."

"What makes you so sure?" Ignoring the accompanying insults, Ryou had long gotten used to talking to "himself" out loud.

Bakura didn't answer. Instead he pretended he didn't hear the question, which confirmed the fact that he had no basis for that judgment. "Just take a look at the door. It has Egyptian symbols carved into the mantel; that indicates the ability to read. How many cats or dogs do you see reading ancient Egyptian?" Suddenly he blinked, taking a closer look. "Oh don't tell me this room belongs to a…" he spat the words like a curse, "a _noble!_"

Ryou decided the best thing to do was to stay silent as Bakura kicked and pounded on the door with renewed fervor. He remembered his dad, who was an Egyptologist, say that even at its highest point, less than one percent of Egyptians were educated. It always puzzled him how Bakura learned how to read, and it made him shiver with dread as he thought of how horrible it would be if the thief's suspicions were correct. _Not a night of peace…_

Drying and running back into his bedroom, Ryou eyed the colorful purple patches sprayed across him, bruises from whatever the thief did on his nightly rampages into the Modern World, and hoped it wouldn't get worse. He trounced the covers into a heap and threw on some clothes.

By the time Ryou had dashed into the gym locker room, Bakura had switched from Japanese to Egyptian, to Coptic, to Arabic yelling at the door. "Bakura, my headache's getting _worse…_" he tried to hint, cradling his head while students clamored back and forth loudly, routinely blind to their fellow schoolmate's pain.

The gym locker room was a squashed dungeon cell with chewed up and spat out lockers leashed onto the walls. A blue liquid attempting to pass as paint was splayed across the floors, and the reek of Axe plagued the room. What looked like a pack of ill-tempered zombies disturbed from their undying slumber lugged themselves across the suffocating passages, slumping off hastily slapped on clothing into the traditional prison suits.

These were the clusters of pitiful souls who had the misfortune of experiencing first period P.E. Each morning as the first strands of dawn trickled over the horizon, Ryou and the rest of the herd shivered in the middle of the race track like a pack of popsicles, their tortured breathes gasping out in ragged puffs.

"Hi Ryou!" Yugi Muto, one of the pity-worthy creatures in gym purgatory, tapped his elbow happily, unaware of the fact that the gym teacher's evil eyes were swooping around the room like a raptors', and that he was entering another day of eternal suffering. He was a new teacher, gossiped by the students to plan to slaughter them all. "Yami said he sensed magic last night at Domino Park. Not Shadow Magic," he quickly added as Ryou automatically feigned innocence, "but he wanted to know if you knew anything about it."

_Nosey Pharaoh, always sticking his spiky porcupine head into other people's business, _Bakura paused to grumble. Inside the sealed room, he was certain his sharp thief ears could detect someone stirring within. _Lazy _sesmet_…_

Ryou hide his weariness from the short teen. "Well, you see," be began quietly, knowing the distracted and cursing tomb robber wouldn't care less if he said anything, "Bakura tried to cast a spell to get his own body." Yugi's already large purple eyes widened even more, but before he could interrogate the British boy any further, the scowling gym teacher began stalking over and bellowing at random inmates, causing mayhem and havoc as they stampeded out into the frigid wilderness of the outside field.

Within the corridor of the soul rooms, an irritated Bakura glowered, lean arms crossed, ignoring the furls of frosty vapor weaving around him. "You can't stay there forever…"

The sound of slow footsteps patted across the floors of the sealed room, silent and delicate as a feline's. A satisfied smirk curled Bakura's lips; someone was definitely stirring in there.

_Why does someone keep on _yelling? A new voice, rich and exotic, demanded through their mental link in ancient Egyptian, irritation lacing through it.

Victorious, Bakura sneered, _Me. _

_You? Who are you? I – _Suddenly the voice was horrified. _Great gods of Egypt, who_ is_ that hideous monster? _

Bakura frowned, about to ask who the voice was talking about, when he realized: the spirit was unwittingly staring through Ryou's brown eyes.

His chipped fangs snapping, the gym teacher roared, "Do you hear me?" The warden's putrid breath oozed over Ryou's pale face like that of a decaying corpse. "_Mister_ Bakura?" The two fat slugs he carried in place of lips slithered into a crooked sneer.

He pushed his square, crunched face closer, sneering gleefully, and Ryou fought the urge to cringe. The cruel wind snickered at him, whipping a trail of his snowy hair into his eyes, and nipped his glacially-cold skin. The gym teacher, a stone statue who's sculptor's scalpel had hacked off bits of his face in a mad rage, flicked at his hair, his eyes mocking. "What, the effeminate little boy can't answer? Need his _mommy _to answer for him?"

_My mother's dead. _The words choked in Ryou's raw throat, and his chocolate brown eyes betraying him and pooling with fresh and bitter tears as unwanted memories ensnared him. He ducked his head, blinking frantically at his shoes, praying he wouldn't cry, not here, not in front of the class. He had thought his eyes had showered enough tears, but it seemed the teacher's sneering words had breached a hidden reservoir. _My sister, Amane, too. All of them..._

Rage rippled across the mental link, and without warning Ryou's eyes snapped up, suddenly glaring icily into the gym teacher's beady dung-beetle eyeballs. His head was held high into the Heavens, tilted upward as if looking down on something disgusting and vile. "I am perfectly capable of hearing _and _smelling you from across the field - sir." The words barely leashed back a snarl.

The voice flowing from his mouth was accented and aristocratic – without a doubt belonging to neither him nor Bakura. "So I would appreciate it if you would remove yourself from my personal space." An astounded Ryou felt his eyes narrow and his body, now standing tall and confident, lean forward slightly so that he was all but spitting the words in the teacher's face. "_Now._"

A strangled choking noise gurgled in the man's throat. "Wha-?"

_Little _Ryou was challenging _him?_

Morbidly chiseled jaws hanging open in shock, the teacher blubbered, "But – you -?"

A roar of wild cheers and untamed clapping were unleashed itself from the prisoners in the back of the classroom, delightedly interrupting the standoff. A horde of brave students leapt up and down, laughing as the jail warden's face turned from yellow to puce and finally to grape skin purple.

A small smile curved Ryou's lips leisurely, a slow and alien smile, and the gym teacher whirled around. "No! You ruffians! Silence! I'll have you all in detention of you don't – _arrh!_"

_B-Bakura? _Ryou stammered nervously, finding himself shivering inside the chambers of the cracked and stony corridor. _Was that…_you?

"No, it was not _me, _hikari," an irritated tomb robber scowled, leaning against the sealed door. Ryou's large doe eyes widened as the symbols traced into the gilded gateway simmered with an unearthly light, alive. "It was whoever in the Twelve Regions of Duat is in _there._" He jerked a thumb behind him. A wicked and amused grin abruptly spread across his lips. "Did you honestly think I could be that civil, and disguise my insults nevertheless?"

"Well…" Ryou mumbled, deciding not to answer the question. He glanced at the door, knowing the only reason both he and Bakura were here was because whoever it was was currently the one in control of his body. "I suppose you…talked to the person?" The words scurried out in a rushed whisper.

Bakura rolled his eyes, feeling his light's apprehension, and called out to the vine-covered ceiling, "_Em hotep, _whoever you are! Get down here – we need to have a little chit-chat." Ryou's yami smiled sinisterly. A scuttling ant snipping its pincers upon a sand dune flooded mound echoed across the room, drowning out the silence and the lack of an answer. Then, with an impatient roar, the furious dark finally snapped, "Open the door!"

_I would, _the voice murmured, _but I'm afraid I don't know how._

Deathly annoyance leaked into the tomb robber's auburn eyes. "What do you mean you don't know how?" He snapped rudely. "Just want to be here, and you are!"

Anger simmered in the response. _Well I'm sorry that I'm not used to being a _parasite! _By the gods, I was asleep 3000 years…for _this?

Ryou gasped. "3000 years!"

The door creaked slightly. _So this is a soul room…_

"Oh hurry up in there…and speak out loud! I don't want your words crawling around in my mind…"

The pair could feel the scowl snarling from the other end of the mind link. Muttering something about taking as much time as the Boat of Ra, Bakura opened his mouth to shout something at the door, when it was wrenched open from the inside.

A shadow-dipped figure emerged, the form wrapped completely in a dark cloak draping across a hidden face. Ryou blinked, eyeing the Egyptian styled jewelry poured over the figure. _Just like in the pictures, _he recalled from what his father had shown him when he was younger. His lips parted to greet the person, when Bakura's horrified gasp erupted.

"Oh gods of the Underworld and the Heavens above! Not _you!_"

"Tomb robber!" The response was equally as horrified.

"Mage!"

Ryou's welcomes died on his lips. They _knew _each other?

"Alright thief," the voice accused, "what have you done to my body?"

"What do you mean 'what have you done to my body'?"

"I wasn't supposed to awaken for 3000 years; and when I did, I was supposed to awaken in my mausoleum – in _my _body!"

"Ha! That forgotten place! What were you doing, rotting in there? Not even one ray of light has touched that place since that bumbling fool Atem ruled Khemet!"

"You know my body is immortal, unlike yours," the 'mage' retorted, crossing slender arms, skin bronzed a shimmering gold by the sun. "As for the light, there _was. _But now that my spirit has left my body, the flames would have deserted the tomb. What did you _do?_"

A far away voice shook Ryou's motionless form, drifting in from far away. "Ryou? Ryou?" It was the one Bakura had dubbed the Pharaonic Tatter-Tot, Yugi. "Are you alright? Hey, Ryou!" The two spirits ignored him completely, and Ryou sighed, hating to leave the fascinating conversation, but at the same time knowing he must look ridiculous dumped on the floor of the dew-dripping field.

In the beginning, when he and Bakura switched back and forth, he had always forgotten to place himself in a comfortable position, and, as a result, had looked like he was having a faint-a-lon; he was certain the mage had done the same.

Ryou opened his eyes, staring up into the graying and shriveled clouds moaning across the dreary sky. The Millennium Puzzle clanked around Yugi's small neck, dangling in front of him like a disembodied third eye. Ryou sat up, scrubbing the back of his head, which was drowning in a sickening puddle of mud, sucking greedily at his head before squalling and letting him go. He felt his cheeks burn. "Yes, Yugi?" He asked as politely as he could manage, cold mud dribbling down his ankles uncomfortably.

Yugi's brow was crinkled with concern. "You just…dropped."

The blush that had sneakily crept onto his pale cheeks was scalding; suddenly Ryou was acutely aware of the entire class staring at him, whispering and snickering while the occasional smirking finger was tossed in his direction.

"Go to the nurse, mister Bakura," the gym teacher's prowling form growled from behind him, seething like the Devourer of Souls herself. "I won't have you fainting in my class." He wiped out a yellow slip and shoved it mercilessly into Ryou's hand, piercing him with a nasty glower. Meekly, Ryou dashed from the class, thankful that he was skipping the diabolical special forces army training…and that he would have somewhere to listen to his yami and the new spirit argue.

_Get out! Ryou's body isn't a hotel! _The tomb robber's voice ordered.

_A 'hotel'? _The spirit echoed. _Congratulations thief; you certainly seem to be fairing well in modern culture – I don't remember any hotels in Egypt. Besides, who said anything about a hotel? Why not a resort?_ Sarcasm marred the words, each of its bladed daggers jabbing at the tomb robber's sides, infuriating.

Bakura's burning eyes flew wide open. _Oh no, you are _not _thinking of boarding here! Out! Out!_

_What makes you think I can? _The figure threw exasperated hands into the dank corridor sky. Blistering vapors hissed through the fissures of the cracking ceilings, slithering slickly down the walls, a reflection of the incensed mood. _I didn't choose to be here in the first place, _wati.

Looking around hesitantly, Ryou tiptoed into the boy's bathroom, shutting the door quietly and taking a deep breath. He padded slowly across the polished floor, checking to see if the cubicles were occupied. No one – he was alone. Gripping the edge of the sink, he stared into the mirror, deciding to ignore the splash of brown smeared across his cheek.

"Bakura!" He called out, appearing in the corridor. "What's going on?"

Bakura's eyes were searing with anger, searing with enough heat to cinder the unlucky light. "This _creature,_" he emphasized cruelly, shooting a spiteful gaze at the coolly staring roommate, "is-!"

"Oh please," Ryou felt the mage roll hidden eyes, "do you think I'd rather be here than in my own body?"

Something flickered across the thief's dark eyes. "Yes," he whispered quietly, knowingly.

A pause lingered in the fuming air; Ryou could tell that the mage was weighing the words, sensing the secret meaning within. "Wait, this body…" The mage turned to Ryou. "I assume you are Ryou?" The spoken to person nodded.

"Then-"

The mage abruptly opened Ryou's eyes, staring into the image painted across the mirror. "You are _male._"

"What?" Ryou asked stupidly. All of a sudden his now hesitant and startled fingers touched his collarbone and ran down his chest, and Ryou squeaked, his voice soaring into the clouds, "YesI _am_ male! What are you doing! Stop that!" His hands ceased abruptly.

"Sorry," his lips murmured, an action alien to Ryou. He always mumbled, or stammered, but never _murmured. _"It's just…a surprise." The spirit flexed long arms, frowning at the little muscle responding to the command. Ryou felt his eyes train onto his face, studying.

"How is this a surprise?" Ryou demanded heatedly from the same mouth, embarrassed. A slight worry skipped across his mind that he would regret challenging the mage, but nothing happened. _At least he has less of a temper than Bakura…_he decided.

"What were you thinking about me, host?" Bakura snapped, catching the last words of Ryou's thoughts, the trouble of having a mental link. There was no privacy, a lethal issue were his dark was concerned.

"Nothing!" was the instant denial.

"Do you often talk to yourself like this?" The mage drawled in amusement.

Ryou was briefly surprised that the mage was talking to him, but mumbled, "Sometimes…" A pitiful, mourning howl from the bell screeched from somewhere outside; the next torture session was beginning. "I need to get to class," he told them both, "walk out the door and I'll direct us."

He snatched a final fleeting gaze at the mirror, noting the changes that occurred. Whenever Bakura was in control of his body, minor yet bizarre changes would occur to it: the narrowing of the eyes, the deeper voice, the added muscle, and the slightly spikier hair.

When Ryou was in charge of his own spirit-possessed body, he was shy and quiet, always looking at the ground as he walked. His long snowy hair was soft and wispy, and his large eyes peered around him, wide and innocent.

When the final and newest addition to the party was in control, it was blatantly apparent that the mage was raised by the high class. Ryou's speech became polished and cultured, briefly reminding him of Bakura's most hated enemy; he stood tall and proud, as if he was utterly confident of himself. His gaze became intense…a strange light played inside the gleaming orbs like the sparkling light of dusk on ocean waves, but he couldn't place what it meant.

And as he walked out of the bathroom – Ryou frowned; this was definitely strange – he noted that it was as if he were floating and weightless.

Bakura seemed to have noticed this too. "You still walk like a woman!" He was horrified.

'_Still'? _Ryou wondered vaguely, puzzled.

"I do _not!_" The mage protested. "This is _class_, something I wouldn't expect you to have experienced."

"Will you please stop talking out loud?" Ryou mumbled, shooting anxious glances across the halls, wondering if anyone was watching him talk to "himself" again. "It looks really odd…"

_Fine, _the mage conceded impassively at the same exact moment Bakura yelled, _I'll do what I like, hikari! _Ryou sighed.

A small hand reached out and yanked him back into the bathroom. "I didn't do it!" Ryou shouted reflexively, and his pint-sized captor eyed him strangely.

"Uh, sure, Ryou," Yugi rolled his purple eyes as Ryou's face burned fervently for the millionth time this hateful morning. "Look, tell me what happened before Yami goes ballistic – he's getting paranoid…" Yugi shivered, Yami's ranting raving in his ears. "He wants to know if the tomb robber…well, you know, what he usually asks." The ancient Pharaoh had taken it upon himself to be Ryou's personal knight in shining armor against the short-tempered Ring inhabitant.

_No, don't make a scene; he told you not to._

_He said not to talk out loud, _Bakura answered smugly, _not to make a scene. _

_Impossible as always; you're no different than in Egypt. _

Sudden fury pulsed through the mental link. _By the Demons of Duat, why did _you _have to be the one the spell ensnared? I would have preferred another weakling like my hikari than _you!

_Charming too, I see…_

"Malik said Bakura stumbled on the words, so the spell backfired," The light quickly blurted as the two spirits waged war in his head, diverting Bakura's attention for a precious moment.

Yugi looked horrified.

_I did _not _hikari!_

_Wait, _you _are the reason I'm here! _

_I did not mess up the spell! It was Malik! He's trying to cover his crime!_

The Millennium Puzzle glowed eerily, and Yugi suddenly shot up about a foot and bellowed with his typical regal superiority against the thief, "Tomb robber!"

"Pharaoh!" Bakura snarled just as viciously, instantly snatching control.

_Don't change the subject on me, thief! _The mage thundered. _Do you have any idea what you've _done?

"Be quiet!" Bakura snapped.

Yami laughed. "What, talking to yourself, Stealer of Souls? How-"

"_Arrh! _Forget it!"Bakura gave up and slammed the doors to his soul room, locking himself inside, seething like a caged animal.

Yami preened, but before he could say anything, Yugi batted him away and inquired, "So you have another spirit living within you?" His expression flooded with sympathy. "That must be harsh."

Ryou shrugged miserably; he was used to bad things happening to him.

"So, what's his name?"

"Pardon?" was Ryou's ingenious response.

"What's his name," Yugi repeated patiently, large eyes gleaming excitedly.

The British boy admitted truthfully, "I…don't know. I didn't ask." Inwardly, he questioned, _What _is _your name? _There was silence for a moment, and then the spirit spoke slowly. _Carefully_, Ryou thought, _almost warily_.

_My friends call me Nefert._

Ryou gasped, _Friends? You consider me a friend?_

Mirth grinned across the mental link. _I'll restate: the ones I'll potentially like. _

_Oh…_He was about to tell Yugi, when something from his father's lectures of Egyptian grammar forced him to stop. _Wait, don't you mean 'Nefer'? _

Ryou heard something similar to a giggle echo in the corridor, and he felt his heart splash sickeningly into his stomach. _No, definitely Nefert. And yes, _she answered his next question with an amused musical laugh, _I am a woman. _

The white-haired boy groaned and cradled his forehead in his hands, blushing for the fourth time in the day. How had he missed it before? It was so obvious – the way she made his body walk, her voice…

The mage – the _sorceress _– was female. "I'm sharing a body with a woman…" he moaned.

Yugi stared at him obviously, hearing the lament. After an uncomfortable moment he cleared his throat. "That must be…" he tried to search for a more delicate word but, finding none, gave up. "Awkward."

Ryou looked up. "Do you think!" He shouted, his embarrassment making him uncharacteristically loud. He was certain everyone in the hallways had heard him, but right now he just didn't care.

Nefert laughed and retreated back into her soul room, the hem of her dark cloak swishing through the corridor. _You'll just have to get used to it, child. _

**Dictionary:**

_Sebi _– Ox  
_Peri tjew _– Get out  
_Sesmet_ – Horse  
_Em Hotep _– Welcome  
_Wati _– Rebellious One  
_Senebti ­_- Goodbye

Dark Mystic Muse glares at her audience, gaze swooping around nastily. "Review my readers, review!" She adds after a sinister thought and a shake of a fist, "Or _else…_"  
Good Mystic Muse rolls her eyes at Dark Mystic Muse's atrocious social skills. "Actually, please do," she whispers while the Dark Muse rants. "The Dark Mystic Muse is secretly insecure about getting no comments or  
suggestions-" Dark Mystic Muse's evil glare snaps up at her. The Little Muse gulps and yells, "I mean, very confident! _Senebti_ until next time!"


	3. The Five Star Hotel Speaks

**Disclaimer:  
**The Dark Mystic Muse deadpans, "I obviously do own neither Yugioh, nor any of its characters. If I did, several characters in the story would meet tragic ends and Malik and Bakura would rule the world. However, I _do _own _this _story, and Nefert/Nefer-Hotep, since I created them."

**Note:  
**Ancient Egyptian dictionary at the bottom of the page; tell me if you want it translated as you go for the next time, or if you want the dictionary to be at the top, etcetera.

**The Demoness  
****Has Purple Eyes**

_The Five Star Hotel Speaks_

Ryou slouched over his math homework, his forehead fallen in his hand, the shuddering lamp light pooling over the pages of his text book. "No," came his muffled groan, "I don't want to go outside! I have homework to do!"

"I _need _to leave – I told you, I have a life to live."

"Not in my body!" Ryou finally cried, jumping to his feet. "I have a math test tomorrow! I can't just drop everything and walk out the door!"

The sorceress accused impishly, "You studied late for the last test. You can do it again." Ryou felt a blush redden his cheeks; he hadn't thought anyone had known – he had a reputation to uphold. She continued with a wicked, almost mocking grin, "The young scholar can take a break – Bakura and I both know you occasionally procrastinate, anyway, so there's no reputation to protect at all."

He protested, "Only because you two keep on interrupting my school work!" On his list of his yami's disrupting habits, which consisted of soul stealing, physical injuries, and body skipping spells, he added "banishing studying time".

"What are you asking for? Just take his body and go!" Bakura advised incredulously, jabbing a finger at the door. "That's what I do." The tomb robber sounded proud of himself.

Ryou rolled his eyes, another uncharacteristic action his dark and the sorceress had been driving him off the edge to do. "Are you friends now?"

"Ha!" The thief scoffed. "Of course not! But at least _she _goes somewhere else besides the front of the bedroom desk…"

"Stop, just _stop!_" Ryou yelled, cramming his hands over his ears.

_As if that's going to work, hikari, _Bakura taunted.

Keeping his brown eyes shut, his light announced, "I'm sick of having my body tossed around like an old jacket!" He was breathing hard, impressed that he hadn't given in yet, or that the Ring spirit hadn't locked him up in his soul room – he seemed in a bad enough mood. As for the sorceress, she mostly shrugged it off – unless she was in a mood that rivaled the tomb robber's.

Ryou huffed, and pillaged his worn out desk drawers, yanking out a neatly laminated piece of paper. The words "Body Schedule" were dappled across the top in printed black ink. He caressed it with an almost endearing gaze before announcing, "This is the schedule I drew up for us to share my body."

"_What?!_" the two spirits cried in unison.

"You're giving us a _curfew?_" Nefert stared in disbelief. "We're over three thousand years old!" Indignation flounced through their mental link.

"Do you honestly believe," Bakura growled, for once taking the sorceress's side, "that we'll keep this little mandate of yours?"

Ryou sighed dejectedly. "No, not a curfew, just…just listen, please. It's important."

"Do tell us," Bakura rolled dark auburn eyes sardonically. "You're lucky I'm even _considering _this!"

When no one made a snide comment, glowered, announced plans for his demise, or muttered ancient Egyptian curses, the British boy continued. "Besides needing to study, if I stay up I'll – this body will – be too tried the next morning. It will be bad for all of us…" His large chocolate eyes sneaked a gaze at the hours drawn for sleep: lights out was at 10:30pm.

Nefert narrowed her eyes as she caught the obsidian-black numbers. "This…_schedule_," she gave the word a distasteful tinge even though she was at least giving it consideration, "automatically gives you from 7:30am to 2:30pm during the week days for education."

"School," Bakura corrected to bother her, and it did its job well.

"Fine," she glared, "_school_. Then you gave yourself until 6:30pm to complete your school work and have leisure time."

Bakura pointed out, "That leaves _us_ only two hours each. Sorry, _host, _but there is no way in Ammit's belly that I'm going to have only two hours to myself a day. You have eleven, hardly a fair number." The said host bit his lip, but the sorceress intervened.

Nefert tilted her head, smiling a wry smile in her usual slow and deliberate fashion. "We'll discuss this later; you are about to have visitors."

Ryou's eyes widened and he staggered back in surprise. "What do you mean?" The sorceress was silent, and for a moment he pondered her words, reminding himself of how much he didn't know about the sorceress. He decided instead to ask a question that had been slinking through his thoughts all day. "You were a sorceress in Egypt," Ryou spoke out loud slowly, "but I haven't seen you use any magic. Have you..?" He hesitated, his voice soft and more delicate, "lost your powers?"  
Strands of amusement lashed around the link. "Possibly…" she murmured, the emotion trailing after the comment strange, but he couldn't identify it at that moment.

Before Ryou could shiver and ask again how she knew, a knock rapped on the door of the apartment, insistently trying to be heard, and proving her prediction. Sighing, Ryou jogged over to the door, peeling it off to reveal a disheveled looking Yugi surrounded by Joey and Tristan, who flanked him like guards. A bursting brown bag was slung over Joey's shoulder, its grunting body sagging to the floor. "Hi Ryou!"

The British boy smiled politely. "Hi Yugi, what are you doing here?"

The Pharaoh's light eyed him quizzically. "We all agreed to meet here today, remember?"

_Oh yes, _Ryou mumbled to himself, sighing inwardly. He hated these get-togethers Yugi and his friends insisted on having. He knew they felt sorry for him always being alone, but the truth was he liked it better that way: just him and the Ring spirit – Bakura understood.

Ryou laughed at their jokes and made the right comments at the right time, and they thought he was happy with them – but he wasn't; he was a stranger.

The silence when he was alone was comforting and familiar – the taunting feeling of being an outcast ceased its mocks, only jeering and lurking by his side when he walked into the outside world.

Ryou asked quietly, "Would you like to come in?"

_I certainly don't want him to, _Bakura muttered from inside the ancient halls of the gleaming Millennium Ring. A shower of pale sunlight dribbled off its sharp edges like a patter of rain, casting a brilliant sheen across the floor.

Ignoring his dark's snide comment as the group huddled inside, Ryou scuttled off to the tiny kitchen, fishing for some tea and biscuits to feed his guests. "What do you have in the bag?"

Invading the sofas, Joey and Tristan dumped a load of books on the coffee table they had been lugging around, staring at Ryou strangely. "Well, we stopped at da' library to pick up ya books like ya asked," the blonde explained, scratching his mop of straw-sprayed hair. "Kinda' weird choices dude," he commented as his calloused hands rescued a book from the abandoned pile. "I didn't know ya liked books about, uh, the latest inventions?"

"Excuse me?" Ryou paused from his hunt in the kitchen to duck his snowy head out. "I never asked you to go the library for me…" He expertly shuffled the biscuits and the tea onto the coffee table, glancing down at the enormous mound of books heaped and flung everywhere. His chocolate brown eyes widened as he read some of the titles. "'Human History: A Timeline'? 'Modern Medicine and its Practices'? 'Technology, Circuitry, and Utilization'? I would never borrow any of those!" He insisted. "Who would read this?"

An amused voice enlightened him, _I would._

Ryou's large eyes widened. "But why? These are so…"

_Boring? _She laughed. _I need to learn about the modern world. _She added to herself, _And for other reasons…_

The three guests watched him carefully, knowing that he was having a conversation with one of the spirits dwelling within him. Joey, Tristan, and Yugi, along with Tea, Yugi's grandfather, and the spirits themselves, were the only ones who knew the truth about the Millennium Items.

"Are you sure?" He asked doubtfully, staring at the mountain in front of him. A warm smile flooded the mental link in reply, and Ryou felt his heart skip a beat. She disappeared into her soul room, humming contentedly.

Yugi questioned curiously, "Was it Bakura?"

"Nefert," Ryou corrected, surprising himself.

"He givin' you a hard time?" Joey demanded, ignoring the fact that it wasn't, and cracking his knuckles and leaning forward almost eagerly. "'Cause ya know we could always do somethin' 'bout that…"

"No," Ryou sighed. "She and Bakura can't stand each other though. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night to hear them arguing, but always in Egyptian. Bakura seems…" He paused and admitted, "He keeps to himself." Hesitantly he groped for the mental link, trying to feel Bakura's reaction, but the thief just shrugged and turned over in his soul room.

Tristan, the brown-headed boy whose hair looked as if he had a dagger protruding from his forehead, rummaged through the bag, which was breathing deeply, trying to catch its breath. With a triumphant "_yes_" Tristan waved a stack of cards into the air. "Truth of Dare," he explained at Ryou's curious look. "We figure we all want to know more would…Nefert, was it?" At the nod he added, "And what better way to do it than a game?"

_Don't do it, _Nefert, Bakura mocked, enunciating her name with a mocking edge to it. _They want to you give up all your secrets or make a fool of yourself; perhaps both. Ryou here, _he began with a smirk, _had to admit that he watches late night soap operas._

_Yami! _The said boy gasped, aghast.

Nefert sounded mystified. _What is a 'soap opera'? _

_Nothing, _Ryou denied quickly.

Suspiciously she questioned, _Are they the overly dramatic theatrics you watch in that box over there? _Bakura smirked as Ryou indignantly claimed that they weren't over-dramatic at all. _I don't like this game. _Nor did she like the copper-hair's dying enthusiasm; she wasn't typically social.

The British boy prodded, _Don't worry – you won't know half of what they're asking, so you can't say anything regretful. _

Joey interrupted, "Hey, why don't we get her to talk to da Pharaoh?"

"Yeah, the Pharaoh," Tristan copied Joey's idea as if it were a revelation. "It might make her feel better, since they're both from Egypt."

Bakura's amusement grew. _Yes, _Nefert, _talk to the Pharaoh; I'm sure that will make you feel right at home…_

The door to Ryou's apartment bounced on its hinges and whirled open, revealing a brunette adorned with sparkling blue eyes flouncing through the doorway. "Hey everyone!" Tea called out, when her eyes snagged the cards in Tristan's hands. She dived for them and squealed, "Oh look! Truth or Dare! I love this game!" Before anyone could skulk over to shut the door, Tea grabbed Ryou's sleeve and demanded, "So, where is this sorceress of yours?"

Ryou blurted, "She's not _mine!_" before he could stop himself. Ignoring the protest, Tea pounced on the sofa next to Yugi, eyeing the Millennium Puzzle like a hungry raptor.

The girl smiled brightly. "She's in the Ring isn't she? It must be hard," she cooed. "Imagine having to force someone living in your body to go away while you showered or dressed or-"

"Yo Tea," the blonde interrupted quickly, saving the incinerated Ryou. "We get it. Let's just introduce yourselves, 'k?" The girl wearing the mismatched set of clothes shrugged, beaming at Yugi and his precious Puzzle.

A golden veil of light fell upon the upside down item, and Yugi's spiky hair became even messier while his face took on a more serious look. Bakura growled as the Pharaoh locked eyes on Ryou, cursing the monarch to the Waters of Chaos under his breath.

Yami opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Tea attacked! She flung herself on him, wrapping her arms tightly around him like a living leech. "Pharaoh!" She nuzzled him gleefully, and Ryou noticed the Pharaoh cringe, staring at his arm as if he were considering chopping it off.

Bakura snorted, rolling auburn eyes, and the three watched as Joey and Tristan heaved to pry her claws away from the poor king. _Why anyone would like him, I wouldn't know, _the thief remarked coldly.

When the two managed to remove Yami's sudden appendage, the Pharaoh hesitantly turned to Ryou, his purple eyes darting back and forth as if he expected Tea to break from their hold and leap at him again. "Hello, Nefert," he began with a regality both Ryou and the sorceress could tell Bakura despised. He glanced at Tea once last time before deciding he was safe. "Am I speaking to you?"

In the corridor, Ryou felt a caution the equivalent of a narrowing of eyes reflect form the sorceress. "Please, answer," he implored the cloaked figure. He didn't want the day to end badly; and he had secretly been hoping he'd find out more about the person who inhabited his body.

"Yes sorceress," the tomb robber drawled, leaning against the stone walls. "We wouldn't want to be impolite, would we?" Nefert gave him a look and vanished, signaling that she was now in charge of Ryou's body. The boy sighed in relief, sitting down and listening intently.

"Yes," she replied, her tone wisped with a charm that would have fooled anyone into believing she was happy to be interrogated by the mob.

Yami smiled victoriously and Tea proudly gushed from her living restraints, "Yami is a 3000 year old Pharaoh from Egypt. He lost his memories so we don't know his real name yet. I'm doing me best to help him get them."

"_We,_" Tristan muttered almost incoherently, but the brunette ignored him.

Arching a brow in amusement, Nefert replied, "I see. Having you been sealed long, if I may ask, in the Puzzle?"

"Whoa, how'd ya know that?" Joey exclaimed, eyes wide.

Nefert tilted he head, another one of her slow smiles tracing themselves against her lips. "I don't see how else he could be here." Ryou frowned inside the corridor; through their mental link, he felt something odd. He scrutinized the fleeting feeling, a feeling that seemed familiar to him. Then he recognized it: she was not lying, but she wasn't telling the entire truth either.

It was the same feeling that trailed after him whenever he made up a partially true excuse to skip going out with Yugi and his friends, or evaded questions.

Beside him, Bakura chuckled darkly. "She never lies, does she?" His laugh, riddled with a clandestine secret, disturbed the snow-capped light.

Satisfied with her answer, Tristan spread the cards on the coffee table, "OK, Truth or Dare is simple."

"I know how to play."

They looked up, surprised. "You had a game like this in Egypt?"

_The feeling again, _Ryou thought to himself as the sorceress responded, "No, but I can tell by the name." _I better pay attention before she figures out how to block the link. _Tristan insisted on tell her anyway, and the mage sat quietly but attentively, listening with the subtle manners that suggested his speech was the most important thing in the world. Ryou could tell the group was secretly basking under her attention, and a twang of envy nibbled at him, coveting how easy it seemed for her to be accepted.

Joey slapped his hands together, rubbing them mischievously. "Alrigh' then, we'll start. First off…" he picked up a card and tossed it away with a frown. "Nah, too weird." With a flick of his wrist he grabbed another one. "Nope, nothing there…"

"You could just ask," Nefert offered, watching the emotions and thoughts flashing through his face easily. "I choose truth."

"And the cards?" Yami's deep voice reminded them.

The sorceress looked at him. "They would be used for everyone else."

"Fine," Tea sniffed. "So then, what is your favorite color?"

Nefert raised an eyebrow at the inquiry. "Purple." This instantly earned her a glare from the girl, who watched Yami's purple eyes for a reaction.

"Aw, come on Tea," Joey whined, "that wasn't a good one at all!"

Tea speared him with simmering blue eyes. "But I wanted to ask!"

Nefert suppressed a sigh. "Ask another one, then."

Without hesitating even a moment, Joey plunged in with the interrogation. "Were you a noble?"

The half-truths returned, and Ryou noted that she wasn't really giving them an answer. "I would like to consider myself so."

"Oh I just _love _this game!" Tea's loud giggle exploded from somewhere near Yami, as she was slowly inching closer to him like a predator covertly stalking her prey. "It makes us all such good friends, telling all our secrets! Friendship is amazing Nefert; we'll all become such good friends! We'll always be there for each other to support and love each other through all our tough times and duels and we can have sleepovers and talk about our great friendship!"

The girl babbled on with her infamous Friendship Speeches, and Nefert's eyes widened slightly; a shudder passed through the room.

"As long as we're friends, _nothing, _nothing can get between us! _Nothing _will bring us down!" She looked up into the sky nobly as if daring someone to contradict her.

Bakura made gagging noises from the mental link, and Ryou cried out a reprimand, but giggled anyway. _That girl better bless the gods that Nefert was in control and not me, _the thief snickered. _Or my hands would be wrapped around her throat. Wait, _he paused, _I think she's loosing her breath – she'll stop at any moment now. Interrupt her, or we'll be listening to another hour._

Nefert did what Bakura suggested without question. "Yes, friendship can," the group noticed the slight inflection of the word 'can', "be a good experience. Why don't we continue…bonding." The Tomb Robber and his light felt her cringe and burst into laughter.

"Huh?" Joey blurted intelligently. He unpeeled himself from the sofa and blinked, giving everyone the distinct impression that he hadn't been paying attention at all. Before Tea could open her mouth to repeat her speech for his benefit, Joey yelled, seeing the classic Friendship Mode look in her eye. "Ryou!" The British boy almost yelped. "Truth or Dare!"

The sorceress hid a smirk. _Please answer, _she threw his words back at him innocently, _we wouldn't want to be rude, would we? _

He goaned, wondering how this had happened. "I'm not playing," he mumbled pathetically to his hands as a smirking Nefert slipped him in control.

"Oh come on Ryou," Yugi chirped, his large eyes pleading. "We're all playing!" Joey nudged the pale boy in the ribs, which hurt more than encouraged. Ryou stuttered something no one could hear, knowing that if it was Joey's turn, the question batted his way would _not_ be an easy one.

The pale boy let a soft shower of his snow-capped hair wisp around his face like clouds, hiding his face from view. "B-but…" he struggled helplessly to come up with an excuse, but they abandoned him like stray flecks of dust brushing off into the wind. Ryou bowed his head, defeated. "Alright…"

Joey pushed his face closer, grinning evilly. "Truth or Dare, Ryou?" He reminded the light of a jackal that had just cornered its prey.

Ryou opened his petite mouth, about to say "dare", but then remembered the last time he had answered with dare, and shuddered. "Truth," was his quick and squeaky response, and he longed to hurl himself out the apartment windows and fly like a freed bird into the horizon…

Was it his imagination, or did everyone huddle closer like a conspiracy just waiting to happen? Ryou decided it was not when Joey guffawed, "Who do you want to take to the dance coming up?" Someone, probably Tea, let out a shrill, gleeful shriek as Joey uttered the words, and Ryou felt himself burned to cinders.

"No one!" he insisted suddenly, not meeting anyone's gaze. Somewhere inside the Ring, Bakura laughed, and Ryou felt embers snarling in his cheeks.

Yugi giggled, "You can't lie to us, Ryou."

Tristan rolled his eyes. "You can't lie to _anyone_, more like."

"Well..!" The accused stuttered, wide chocolate eyes darting around as if hoping an invisible someone would be his savior. The only thing that broke over the snickers was the tomb robber snorting at Ryou's suffering and Nefert's confusion radiating from the mental link. "It's…" He buried a pillow in his face, "Mai Valentine." As he croaked out the name, the vulpine blonde's fair face murmured across his thoughts, teasing and whispering with a coy smile. Lavender eyes peered at him, frames by curled gold locks.

Then laughter rudely shook him from his daydream, both from inside the soul rooms and outside.

Tristan seized his quivering sides, gasping for breath while Yugi joined him and Joey glared. "Hey, Mai's _my _girl!" The straw-tousled hair in Joey's face poked at him as he scowled. "Or will be one day…"

Ryou begged, "Don't laugh…"

Yugi blinked up at him, having attempted to smother his laughter by eating cushion. "S-sorry Ryou," another giggle ambushed him. "It was just so…unexpected! I mean, Mai Valentine? She's-"

"Da hottest girl in Domino, is way out of everyone's league," Joey interjected instantly, then added, "'cept mine. And _I _wannada take her out!"  
Ryou blinked up at him. "You _asked!_" The blonde huffed, but kept silent, glowering at an innocent cushion curled up on the sofa, snoozing.

_I can't believe you like that…woman…_Was the smirking commentary from somewhere within him. Nefert seemed to agree, but only rolled her eyes.

"What do you mean the 'hottest girl in Domino'?" Tea echoed, seething with fury. "What about me?!"

"…Well, we mean the people we see as friends, Tea," Yugi quickly corrected, and Tea let out a small smile, clinging to Yami's vessel, turning evil, friendship-ridden lasers onto him. Yugi and Yami gulped, withering into ashes.

The sorceress's inquiry interrupted the interrogation. _This…Valley of the Kings, is it the modern name for _Ta-Sekhet-Maat

The British boy was astounded at the randomness of the question, but otherwise had no idea what in the world a Ta-Sekhet-Maat was.

Bakura answered the question with a mental nod, however, and the sorceress grew silent, suddenly training Ryou's chocolate eyes on the phone. Curious, the light was about to ask a question about her sudden interest in it, when the said telephone began shrieking and wailing, startling the group. Like a howling jackal that had just made its kill, the infernal piece of technology bawled like an infant.

Without a second thought, Ryou jumped up, flinging an apology at the group assembled like a parade fair in his living room, and snatched up the device. "Hello, Bakura residence," he replied habitually. "This is Ryou speaking. Who may I ask is calling please?"

_Ah, always so polite, aren't you host? _Ryou ignored his dark's snide comments and cradled the phone closer to his ear. A dusty cackle sputtered in the background, wind blowing behind globs of desert sand.  
Within her soul room, the sorceress lowered striking eyes, listening as an unfamiliar but clearly ecstatic man Ryou knew to be his father exclaimed the tomb robber's light's name from the other side and inquired about his health. She let the silken dark drapes of her cloak dribble down her slender arms, a golden hand gliding out from beneath it and cupping the air.

A goblet of amethyst flames ignited just above her open palm, the familiar warmth of her magic finally being cast relaxing her; even a few days squelching them felt like a curse.

A cool voice smirked from the part in her door, "Breaking our own rules are we?" The sorceress seized the flames, and instantly they vanished. The Ring spirit lazed at her door, eyeing her palm with a raised eyebrow. "I was under the impression that you were trying to _hide _them from dear Ryou."

Tugging her cloak back over her form, Nefert answered dryly, "Oh please, thief, you can't tell me that you hate feeling half _blind, _sluggish, slow, and deaf every time you take control of a mortal body. Not to mention cold," she reflected - magic always trilled warmth through her body, making her skin glow like the sun. "I've never been _cold _before."

Bakura's mocking smirk grew wider. "So you _have _taken over a mortal body before, have you?"

She glared. "You know what I mean." He was silent, leaning against the wall so she added briskly, "The one thing good about the boy's…curfew," the word was ringed with distaste, "is that he won't be awake to know that I use my magic."

The thief's dark eyes narrowed. "He will realize when he begins to fall asleep in his mortal school," came the contradicting hiss.

The sorceress raised a beautifully arched eyebrow. "Oh? Have you forgotten what magic can do to a body?" She posed the question, briefly listing to him the sudden charges of energy that would keep the light from needing much sleep. "And if that fails, I can always whip up a potion. Magic has always run through my body whether I use it or not – it's part of my essence. As long as I don't allow myself to take control so often, the magic will lay dormant minutes after I hand Ryou command of his body. At worse, he'll simply see it as a stroke of luck that his athletic abilities were enhanced." She added after a thought, "If it persists for more than that, I can always claim it was the Ring's magic, not mine."

The thief shrugged. "What makes you think that I won't tell him about your little secret?" For this, he received a glower.

"Because if you do, I won't keep his body energized enough to cover _your _midnight escapades."

"I don't care."

She changed tactics. "It will be a hassle. We share bodies, and I'm sure Ryou would find a lot of information about your past quite…interesting."  
The arctic white hair spilling down Bakura's shoulder melded into pale silver daggers. "You wouldn't-"

"I would!" The cloaked figure interrupted. "So let's stop making this any more unbearable than it already is. Agreed?" She knew that the tomb robber hated anyone knowing about his past; it induced nothing but pity from others, a poison he loathed.

The tomb robber speared her with a sinister glower for a full minute before growling a curt, "Agreed."

Back on the telephone, Ryou courteously asked his father the customary questions that any relative in an awkward relationship would ask. "Enough about me, what are you doing?" Years had let him master the façade of interest.

"The team and I are excavating in the Valley of the Kings," his father replied, and a brief shiver crawled up Ryou's spine as he thought of what the sorceress had asked him seconds before the phone call. "We're certain that something's here, but we just have to patient…"

Ryou stopped paying attention; the sharp scent of desert sand assaulted his senses. Before he could yell, he felt as if he was snatched under an ocean and drowning in the images ensnaring him.

Hissing torrents of dust scrapped the cliffs, tearing across the cracking mountain gorge. The Valley of the Kings gave a violent shudder and cries rose up from terrified Egyptologists scrambling for their lives at the valley floor.  
His father was among them.

His pale white hair sweeping his eyes, he dodged a stray boulder crunching the wobbly tent beside him. An earthquake convulsed underneath his feet; hefty chunks of rock heaved and careened to the ground.

"Ryou, _Ryou!_" Yugi and Tristan's bellows howled in his ears.

"Father!" Ryou screamed into the telephone, his hands desperately clawing for the gadget being wrenched out of his arms. "No, give it _back!" _

"Stop it man!" Joey yelled over the boy's shouts, attempting to pin him down as the white-haired boy thrashed and struggled. "You're startin' to hurt me!"

"Give me back the telephone!"

"Calm down, and we'll give it to you!" Tristan bargained as Ryou's shoe buried itself in his stomach. "_Ahh!_"

_Stop acting like a fool, host, _the thief king snarled, but Ryou could tell he had seen the images as well. _You're flailing around like a rabbit! _The boy felt his body cease its flaying; Bakura had probably taken control for a fleeting moment.

"Alright, I'm alright," Ryou told his captors, making a lunatic leap for the phone. "Just give me the phone!"

"But-"

"Give it to him, Joey!" Tristan snatched the phone and threw it at the trembling Ryou.

"Father!" Ryou barely managed to whisper. "Are you hurt? Are you alright?"

Yugi, Tristan, and Joey groaned inwardly as Ryou's father responded, "I'm fine, Ryou…but are you?" Ryou blinked in confusion. "You were screaming like a wild man."

"I'm fine, I just…well…!" The snowy-haired boy urgently groped for the right explanation, but found none. Giving up, he choked, "Y-you h-haven't had an earthquake, h-have you, father?"

The man laughed. "Ryou, you know that there hasn't been an earthquake in Egypt for years! The country isn't anywhere _near _a tectonic plate! Is that what caused the screaming?" Amusement and relief mingled in his question.

"N-no, father," Ryou mumbled glumly. "I, ah…dropped something on my foot…" he lied as he spied the books, which were the inspiration for his story, in an unceremonious heap on the coffee table. "You'll be careful in the next few days, won't you?"

He laughed again. "I will." An Arabic shout sounded behind him, and he paused for a moment to listen. "I have to go now, but I'll call back soon. I've sent the money; you should get it any day now. Chin up, alright?"

"Yes, father…" was the faintly whispered reply. The telephone moaned like a risen mummy, and the faint British boy solemnly placed it back into the receiver. Instantly the group surrounded him, bent on a merciless interrogation.

"What," Bakura demanded of Nefert in the soul rooms, "was that?" The usual glare smoldered in his dark eyes.

Knowing that Ryou was to busy to hear, and that Bakura has blocked the conversation from him, she answered, slightly disturbed, "A premonition – but I didn't think that either of you would be able to see it." Realization dawned on them.

"The mental link…" Both visions and dreams came from the subconscious; if dreams were shared, it was no surprise that premonitions would, as well.

The sorceress informed him, "We won't have to worry about the vision, though. It will happen at approximately 6:43pm two days later – no one will be injured."

Bakura allowed his eyes to widen slightly. "How do you know?"

She eyed him strangely. "You didn't receive the after knowledge accompanying the premonition?" The mage was thoughtful. "Interesting."

Annoyed, Bakura demanded, "How will you explain this to my host?"

"I suppose knowing about my premonitions won't matter; it is only one of my minor abilities, after all…" Shifting her gaze into the hallway, the mage decided that she was not looking forward to the explanation.

* * *

"She said he'd be perfectly fine," was Bakura's curt interjection for the hundredth time. 

"But - my father -" Ryou dipped his head down, staring at his shoes, hating the cold fear clutching his stomach. "Will I see these…visions any more?" He queried, quipping up after a silence. It was just an hour after the group had left, Ryou telling them that he needed to be alone for a while. Outside the world was still deceptively beautiful, streamers of sunlight lancing through the windows.

"You may," the sorceress concluded smoothly, and Ryou caught the wording that promised neither a yes nor a no. The boy was trying to piece her together like a puzzle, but it was confusing him more than illuminating him. "Now continue your studying." She pierced his unsaid questions with a warning look.

Bakura looked at her. _Perhaps you should cease the prophetic commentary, _he suggested coldly, blocking his words from Ryou's hearing. _Spewing random questions about future events, like your ingenious _Ta-Sekhet-Maat _inquiry will only make it worse. And _bother_ me. _

Ryou forced himself to swallow his gripes and protests, throwing himself indignantly into his soul room bed. "I'll do it later!"

Seeing the future didn't earn you the title of "sorceress" – it earned you the title of "seer"; Ryou wasn't fooled.

**Dictionary:  
**_Ta-Sekhet-Maat _– "The Great field"; Egyptian name for the Valley of the Kings

* * *

**Well, this cahpter wasn't the best, but, still, I hope you enjoyed it. Fixed Adorable Puppy Eyes on you Review?**

**D. Muse**


	4. Back Way Alleys

**Disclaimer:  
**The Dark Mystic Muse sighs, "I don't own Yugioh, etcetera..."

**The Demoness  
****Has Purple Eyes**

_Back Way Alleys_

"You cannot fathom, Marik," Bakura gritted out, wiping a gooey mixture of slime and sludge the sky had unceremoniously spat out on his face, "how much this…" He crunched the nearest whimpering dumpster with his foot, glaring at it as if it was the source of the problem.

The other arched an eyebrow. "Aggravates?"

"That Ryou was whining about the stupid news for hours, weeping like the wailing _Isis_ for goodness sake!"

A pause; Marik took a minute to ignore the jeering sky pelting welts at them like an over eager child armed with snowballs. Normally he enjoyed the rain, but this was just ridiculous…"Maybe you should leave, Bakura," he began smoothly. "There is no point in us both being out here under Nut's despicable, slobbering sky…"

Bakura's seething brown eyes leered at him. "You want me to leave, Marik?" Was the quiet demand, "Then why are you here? We could always move somewhere less…" A lopsided smirk greeted the cloaked blonde. "Wet."

Marik was silent, gripping the now rain-coated Millennium Rod impassively.

"Now why don't we cease these pathetic pretenses, shall we?"

"Does Ryou or the sorceress know you're pestering me like some bothersome fly?" The blonde growled irritably. "Don't you have some restricting rules on _stalking _and involving them in black-market dealings?"

Bakura laughed cynically. "Ah, as I suspected. That sweet and innocent act is forcing you to take the Rare Hunters into back alleys, hmm?"

"If you must know, yes. Now get out of my sight."

Bakura didn't move, of course, which they both knew perfectly well would happen. Marik's feet splashed raindrops against the dirty brick walls of the alley; a bumbling Hunter, unmistakable in his dark purple robes and expressionless Eye of Horus, was scuttling down the alley toward them.

"Master," the robed dough boy look-alike mumbled, bowing so low he practically fell onto Marik's feet. Staring at the creature before him with obvious contempt, Marik used a foot to slam the Hunter out of his way. The Hunter squeaked shrilly before taking a swim with the alley dirt. A fat chubby hand griped at the future welt bruising his jawbone.

"If you are late one more time," the Egyptian sneered, "you'll never be able to remove the welts I'll inflict upon you. And _never_," Marik's voice impaled the slave like the blades of a million artic shards, "arrange to meet in this _filth!_" He kicked a squashed beer bottle into the Hunter's cowering face, smiling at the satisfying howl of terror in response. "Now…" he purred, watching the groveling man in amusement. "You have something for your master?"

"Y-yes," the Hunter croaked, failing at trying to present Marik with an immaculately carved box and crawling close enough at the same time. Rolling his purple eyes, Marik snatched it from him, ignoring the pitiful quakes of his servant.

"Ah, at last," he murmured to the box, his eyes gleaming deviously. "Get out of my sight," he snapped and the Hunter fled gratefully.

"What's in the box, Marik?" Bakura demanded.

The blonde glared at the thief for a moment before deciding to answer, his fingers unconsciously stroking the sachet. "Several items," he enlightened the unimpressed tomb robber. "I must admit that this sorceress character that you forced to invade your Millennium Ring has indeed interested me. I have done my research."

Bakura was livid. "I've been telling you for weeks how I want her _out _and all you tell me is that she _interests _you?!" Fury scalded beneath his flesh like a searing iron. "Well let me tell you something that may _interest _you, you good for nothing tomb keeper! I knew that purple-eyed sorceress a long time ago, and she was not called 'Nefert' by anyone!"

Marik regarded him impassively. "I see. I suspected as much."

"Word your sentences well, Marik…" was the poisonous threat.

"Then what is our precious mage's name, Bakura? Not Nefert, I deduce?"  
A pause. Then, "Barely anyone called her that, at least, not as a name, though certainly as a title." The words were reluctant. "She did not have _friends_ – no one of her high status has friends They have dedicated followers, slaves, or loyal hordes-"

"Like me?" Marik mocked.

A glare. "The Hunters follow you out of fear and the magic you have forced over them. They followed 'Nefert' because of her sorcery and myth. Now tell me, what do you have in that box?"

The blonde tilted his bronze head to a side, smiling coldly. "Of the many, the one you may have interest in is this letter which I happened to have received from your host's father, the leading archeologist excavating the Valley of the Kings." He snapped open the chest and skimmed it briefly before announcing in obvious boredom, "In a quick summary, this fool is ranting about a 'lost' tomb that the earthquake revealed. He says that, despite all his efforts, they have only been able to permeate the first three chambers – none of their modern devices are capable of penetrating any further. Curious, isn't it?"

The tomb robber snatched the previously smooth paper and scoured it angrily. "'We have tried drills, hammers, wedges, and anything else we can think of,'" he read out loud. "Yet none of them even leave a _scratch _in the rock's surface. If I didn't know better, I would have said it was…'" Bakura scrunched up the letter into a mutilated ball. _"'Magic,'"_ he spat.

"Ah, sounds remarkably coincidental, doesn't it?"

"Cease your crowing, Marik. Why do you care about the sorceress?"

"Why, power, my dear thief," Marik mocked, feigning surprise. "Let's take a walk, shall we?" Reluctantly, Bakura allowed Marik to sweep them both out of the alleyway and into the nearly deserted streets attached to it. "The Millennium Items are possibly the most potent artifacts bequeathed to human kind…but what if the relics we uncover in that mausoleum were artifacts for," a steely glint tinted his almond eyes. "More than humans?"

Bakura halted in his tracks, seething.

"How do I know, you ask?" Marik laughed. "If you had bothered reading the next paragraph of the letter you so rashly disregarded, you would have seen that the myth of a legendary sorceress named Nefer-Hotep was perfectly preserved on the walls." Silence greeted the tomb keeper's revelation, so he continued to drawl, "Considered half demon by some and fathered by Ra by others…as lethal as she was beautiful, the Slaughter of the An-"

"_Ger tjew, _Marik, _ger tjew!_" The thief snapped. "I get the point. I could benefit much from the treasures lying within its chambers. But prying open that door is an impossibility."

"You've tried?" The Millennium Rod bearer taunted. "Two sacred Items are better than one. Perhaps then you can break Zork out of his bindings, and I…well, I have my own reasons." He smiled cryptically.

_Ha, as if it is hardly difficult to guess your motives,_ Bakura sneered to himself. "Fine," he agreed coolly, meeting Marik square in the eye. "Do we have an agreement?"

* * *

**Dictionary:  
**_Ger Tjew _- Be Quiet/Shut Up 


End file.
